


A Bloody Mess

by anysin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Case Fic, Gen, Investigations, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, s1 shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: After Martin gets kidnapped by Angela of the Lee Rentoul case, it's up to Jon to find and rescue him. A gen AU based on "Piecemeal".
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A gift to a mystery person at fail-fandomanon!

The house is, just like it was said in the statement, old and nice-looking. So much so that when Martin first sees it as he steps out of the bus, dread instantly spreads into his body, turning his legs into lead: this has to be it. It's a big, cozy, welcoming house in Bexley and a woman named Angela lives in it. Martin has, for once, found what he's looking for.

He stares after the bus as it drives away, longing to be on it. Then he sighs, taking in a deep breath before he heads towards the house and its front door.

By the time he has walked across the yard and reached the plain wooden door, Martin is wondering just what the hell he's even doing here. If the woman living here really is the Angela in question, she could seriously harm him; he's sure she's not up for answering any nosy questions about a guy she has hacked into pieces without even touching him. Yet at the same time, this is also a great chance to get into Jon's good graces. Martin knows his boss doesn't like him very much, and he would love to change that. But is risking his life really worth that?

Jon may not believe any of the stories that are shared with the Institute, but Martin definitely believes some of them. Specifically this one. Especially this one.

Martin looks up at the small window on the top part of the door, which is covered by blinds, and comes to a decision. But the moment he takes a step backwards, the door opens, and it's already too late.

*

"Hello there," a woman says sweetly. "Am I speaking to Jon?"

Jon swallows. He has been trying to get hold of Martin, who has been radio silent for the last few days, not even answering his messages. Jon had tried not to be worried initially - Martin could be sloppy and absent-minded - but when he heard that Tim and Sasha had also failed to get in touch with Martin, concern had finally broken through. He had sent Martin after a woman who had supposedly caused a man to fall apart, after all. Even if that wasn't exactly true, she could still be dangerous. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that Martin had run into trouble.

Now he knows his worry wasn't for nothing, because he is getting this call from Martin's phone.

"Where is my assistant?" he asks, getting straight to the point.

The woman - obviously the mysterious Angela - laughs on the other end, her voice still sugary sweet.

"Martin is fine," she says in a light, merry tone. "For now, at least. But it depends on you whether he will stay that way, Archivist."

Jon cringes. Of course, Martin couldn't help himself; he has obviously babbled everything about himself and the Institute to this woman, endangering them all. It's good they aren't in the same space right now because Jon would probably strangle him.

Still, he is very aware that Martin's life is on the line now. "What do you want?"

"Good lad." In the background, Jon can hear a door opening and closing, then the scratch of gravel. Angela is going out for a walk? "Now, I know that your lot deals in information. What I want to know is where Mikaele Salesa is."

That name is familiar. "He was Paul Noriega's associate," Jon says. "So, you two know each other?"

"That doesn't matter," Angela says, and for the first time she sounds less than jovial. "Now, I don't expect or want you to get hands-on with him. I can deal with him personally. All I need is his current location."

Jon frowns. "We are not a detective agency," he points out.

Angela snorts. "You really are new at this, aren't you? That is so cute." She laughs, cheerful once again. "Well, now you will learn, Archivist. Find me Salesa, and I won't harm your Martin too much. I'll keep in touch."

"Wait," Jon yells, "'too much', what is that supposed to mean?"

All he hears is a little splash, then a lot of ear-searing noise as Martin's phone is tossed into water.

*

"And we are not calling the police because?" Tim demands the moment Jon has finished explaining the situation.

"Well, we don't want him to get chopped up, do we?" Sasha comments, her voice calm even though she looks disturbed. "I think that's the obvious threat here, Tim."

Tim grimaces at that, running his hand through his hair. "I guess you're right." He looks over to Jon. "All right, boss, what's the plan?"

Jon doesn't answer immediately. Part of him agrees with Tim: they should get the police involved, given that they're dealing with dangerous people. But Angela knows where they work; if she has a lot of associates, it will not go unnoticed by her if the Institute is suddenly swarming with the police. And there is no way to tell what she'll do to Martin once that happens. Anything is possible right now.

So, they need to deal with this on their own.

"I think you and Sasha should look into what we have here about Salesa," Jon says. "I will inform Elias about this, and then go to Martin's place. I'm hoping he has kept some kind of notes about his investigation."

Tim sighs. "Couldn't resist that barb, could you?"

"Tim," Sasha says softly, then looks at Jon. "I doubt we're going to find anything from here. The archives are- well, a bit chaotic."

"To put it mildly," Jon mutters. "But I think we have to try to find something, in case she calls soon. But of course the goal is to free Martin before we have to give her anything."

Tim and Sasha exchange a look.

"And you're the one who's going to do that?" Sasha asks, raising her brow. "Free Martin?"

"I'm the one who _has_ to do that," Jon says. "Look, it's my fault that Martin ended up going to that woman in the first place. It's my responsibility to fix this."

Tim starts to say something, but he hesitates, closing his mouth instead. Sasha hesitates too before she walks over to Jon, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"You couldn't have predicted this," she says. "If someone was going to kidnap Martin, it was going to happen regardless of your influence."

"Yeah," Tim agrees after a while. "I mean, I don't understand why you sent him of all people to that lady in the first place, but I don't think you meant him to get grabbed."

"Exactly," Sasha says, smiling to Jon as she gives him a squeeze. "Anyway, we just need to work together on this. We'll figure this out."

Jon nods. "There is a good chance we can still rescue him," he says, although he isn't entirely sure about that. But he has to believe in it, that they, that Martin has a shot. "We have to try, anyway. We don't have any other choice."

Tim still looks like he wants to say something, but in the end he sighs, nodding. "We'll get started here." He pauses. "We'll _try_ to get started here."

"Thank you, Tim. You too, Sasha." Jon takes in a deep breath. "Good luck. I'll go talk to Elias."

*

The talk with Elias doesn't go how Jon expected at all.

"Martin has been kidnapped." Jon waits for Elias to look up from the papers he's going through, which appear to be some kind of old documents; when Elias doesn't, Jon continues: "Tim, Sasha and I are looking into what we can do. We're hoping to find him soon."

Jon is feeling quite anxious about the whole situation by now; the more time he spends here, the less time Martin has, and he wants to leave to Martin's flat already. It's incredible to him how Elias can stay so calm when he's hearing something like this, and he's about to comment on that when Elias finally glances up and asks:

"Are you sure about that, Jon?"

Jon stares at him in disbelief.

"I got a call from a woman who says she has him," he says. "I have a good reason to believe he's in trouble, Elias. I need to find him."

Elias sighs, putting down his papers.

"He could have put someone up to it," he says. "Come on, Jon. We both Martin hasn't been- the best possible fit for this job. He could be easily angling for some free time at your expense." Elias picks up a folder and puts the papers inside it, either ignorant of or actively ignoring Jon's stunned silence. "But if you wish to go and check on him, I won't stop you."

Jon doesn't know what to say. It's not that he has never had an unkind thought like this about Martin; hell, up to this day, part of him had wondered if Martin was just slacking off. Now, however, he feels ashamed of it; Martin may be lacking in all aspects, but he would never worry his co-workers like this.

"I don't think Martin would do that," he says to Elias, firmly. "I think he really is in trouble. And I will help him out."

"As you wish." Elias binds the folder and puts it away, taking out another one. "I wish you the best of luck, in that case."

Jon is baffled, but he has nothing more to say: he needs to go look for Martin. He turns around and leaves, wondering just how the hell he is going to break into Martin's flat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sasha go to Martin's apartment, the Salesa investigation proceeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nail trauma in this chapter.

Jon has never broken into anywhere before, and Tim and Sasha realize this. Therefore, Sasha ends up coming with Jon to Martin's flat.

"Keep an eye out, this shouldn't take long," Sasha says to Jon as they stand by the door, taking out a small key from her pocket.

"Well, if you have a key to his flat, it shouldn't take long at all," Jon says, but he does as he's told, listening to any sounds coming from the other flats and the corridors as Sasha slips the key into the lock.

"This isn't a key to his place, this is a bumper key. Burglars use them." When Jon turns to glare at her, Sasha just shrugs. "It's not as if we haven't needed one for this job," she comments.

"I suppose so." Jon turns away again, tensing when he hears the elevator coming down from above. He's relieved when it goes past their floor, but only for a moment; someone is coming up eventually, after all. He wonders how well the sound carries through the walls in this place, if Martin's neighbors can hear Sasha rattling the lock.

"All right, it's open." Sasha pushes the door open, and Jon follows her inside.

As they venture into Martin's flat, it becomes quickly clear that finding something from there may not be so easy. Jon shouldn't really be surprised that Martin's home is a disorganized mess, but he is; it frankly looks like Martin has just moved in and still hasn't bothered to unpack most of his boxes, while somehow managing to scatter everything he has unpacked all around the place. The one organized thing in Martin's flat is his bookshelf, which is full of volumes of poetry and neatly labeled tapes. Jon has to stop and gawk at all of it for a moment, which makes Sasha turn around and frown at him.

"Jon, don't judge," she says. "Not everyone is like you."

"Right." Jon's face heats a bit, but he tries to ignore it. "Anyway, we should start looking for notes. He must have a computer, right? He seems like the type to spend his days with one."

"Jon," Sasha warns.

"Sorry. But he must have one for research purposes at least." Jon glances around the flat, locating the bedroom door. "Maybe it's there."

"I'll go check." Sasha walks over to Martin's sofa, which is covered in various things, first, lowering her bag on a free spot. "You can start here, I'll come join you soon."

Jon nods, moving over to the sofa as well to drop his own bag down on it while Sasha heads over to the bedroom. It's strange to be in Martin's flat; it's obvious that it doesn't get a lot of visitors, and it's more than likely that Martin would feel very uncomfortable about Jon and Sasha visiting it without his permission. But Jon brushes the guilt off; if Martin lives to complain about the invasion of his privacy, all the better. Right now, Jon needs to focus on finding everything that has to do with Martin's research on Angela. He's not leaving until he has something.

It takes a long while until he finds anything, and when he does, it's a piece of paper that lies forgotten on the floor. It contains numbers and times, and it takes a moment of thinking for Jon to realize that it's bus numbers and times; so, Martin has been traveling around London in search of Angela. He will have to investigate where these buses go and where Martin might have left off, given that there are no addresses on the paper. Martin must have taken all his important notes with him, which Jon would normally commend him for doing, but now it's inconvenient.

"Any luck?" he asks Sasha when she comes out of Martin's bedroom, carrying Martin's laptop.

"Not much yet," she says. "I found a laptop, but it was password-locked. I will take it and look at it at the Institute." She gives the laptop a pat. "Now, I also examined his desk and found a few receipts from the last couple of days, so those should give us some kind of an idea about where he has been."

Sasha looks at the paper in Jon's hand. "How about you?"

"I found some bus times," Jon says. "I need to look them up and see their routes. I assume Martin has just looked for women named Angela who live in the Bexley area and gone to visit them, so I guess I just have to do the same search."

Sasha nods, glancing down at the receipts she has stashed in her free hand. "Maybe these will give you a clue about what routes he has used already, then. I will know more once I have accessed his computer." She pockets the receipts, glancing around the flat. "Should we give the kitchen and the living room one more look?"

"No, I think I got it covered. There's nothing here." Jon sighs, bending his head back. "We don't have much, do we?"

"Hey, it's more than nothing." Sasha gives him a nudge on the shoulder before turning towards the sofa, opening her bag so she can slide Martin's laptop inside it. "Let's go back to the Archives. I'm sure Tim needs all the help he can get finding info about Salesa."

Jon is sure of that too, given what a mess Gertrude Robinson left behind for all of them. He picks up his own bag from Martin's sofa, giving Martin's sad little flat one more glance before following Sasha out.

*

They are all very busy in the next two days. Tim explores the Archives for any and all info about Salesa, Sasha works on Martin's computer and Jon looks for information about Angelas in Bexley. After two days have passed, he calls Tim and Sasha into his office so they can review their findings.

"I have located ten women who could match our Angela," he says to Tim and Sasha. Jon is holding a list of names in his hand, complete with addresses and phone numbers. "According to Martin's list of bus times, he was planning to visit all of them, and according to his receipts, he had already visited three and come back unharmed, so we can rule them out for now." He sighs. "Of course, that still leaves seven."

"Can you thin out their numbers?" Tim asks. "Like, do we think that our Angela has a family? Maybe we can focus on the loners."

"Actually, I was thinking of that," Jon says, nodding. "That would leave us with four. I will go visit the areas where they live and ask around about Martin."

Tim smiles a little at that. "No direct visits? Well, that's probably smart."

"We're trying not to get caught this time," Jon says dryly. "Now, have you found anything?"

Tim hands out two statements to Jon. "After a long time, I finally uncovered these two. Apparently, selling cursed items is a thing for Salesa, which made me think of our Artifact Storage. So I asked Rosie if we've ever had any dealings with him, and it turned out that we've had plenty."

Jon's heart hammers. "So we have his contact info?"

"Of course not," Tim says, with a mirthless smile. "In fact, apparently no one has heard a thing about Salesa in two whole years." He drops the smile, starting to frown. "So unless we develop some magical detecting skills really soon, it doesn't look too good for Martin."

Jon bites the inside of his cheek, not wanting to think of that. "How about you, Sasha? Any luck with Martin's computer?"

"I got in, but there was nothing it it," Sasha says. "It doesn't seem like he did anything differently from you though. Looked for Angelas, then wiped his browser history."

Jon can't help but groan over that; why does Martin have to be so selectively conscientious? Tim gives him a glare over his groan, looking like he's about to say something when they're interrupted by a knock on the door. Rosie comes in, carrying two small, brown parcels.

"Jon," she says. "These were delivered to you."

*

The first parcel contains a tape.

"Whenever you're ready, dear," Angela says in a clear, cheerful voice, and they all hear a sharp gasp in the background.

"Right!" Martin says, and Jon's heart almost stops beating. Martin clears his throat, laughing uncertainly; he sounds scared, but alive. Jon is so relieved over that he wants to shout, but he keeps silent, focusing on listening to Martin instead as he speaks: "Hello, everyone! As you may have figured out by now, I found Angela. She wasn't very happy about that."

"You could say that again," Angela comments, still very cheerful. Jon shudders at her tone, and he can see Tim doing the same while Sasha just looks alarmed.

"Anyway! I'm doing all right, so far. I'm alive. I'm in one piece. I'm well fed." Martin laughs again, in a more high-pitched tone this time. "I don't know what I've been fed with, but I'm fed!"

"Martin." Angela's cheer is still there, but there is a chiding tone in her voice now. Martin stutters something unclear before clears his throat again, and continues:

"So, Angela wants you to know what she is aware that it's not easy to find information about Salesa! So she will give you time to find some until the end of this week. If she doesn't have anything by then, well, you'll see what happens to me then." Martin sucks in a breath, very audibly, then speaks up in much louder voice: "Look, don't do what she says! Don't worry about me, I'm not afraid! I'll be fine, I'll-!"

The tape cuts off, and for a moment Jon is afraid that this is it. But after seconds of horrible silence, the tape starts to run again, and Angela is the one talking this time:

"My apologies, that didn't go quite as I planned. In any case, you heard what he said. I will give you a call by the end of this week, and you better have something for me by then. If not-"

This time, the tape ends for good.

Jon looks over to Tim and Sasha. Tim is pacing around the room, very agitated, while Sasha is staring at the other parcel, looking shaken.

"He wasn't harmed when that was recorded," she says in a very quiet voice. "That might not be the case anymore."

Tim freezes, going pale. It takes a moment until Jon is able to make himself move, grabbing the second, smaller parcel with shaking hands before he starts to tear the paper off.

It's sickening how the ten fingernails he finds in the small box inside the parcel are a relief; at least it's nothing worse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Search for Salesa continues, and Jon and Sasha look into the Angelas in the Bexley area.

They all stare at the parcel for a while before Sasha reaches out, pushing the lid down. Tim breaks the silence that follows, clearing his throat before speaking up:

"We have to-"

But Jon is having none of it.

"Sure," he snaps, "let's get the police involved and Martin can die even faster! Is that what you want?"

Tim stares at Jon, stricken, but it doesn't take him long to get angry, and soon he's yelling:

"Of course not! But what exactly are we planning to achieve here? Let's say you find Angela, and I find Salesa. Then what? You're just going to ask her to give Martin back, and I'll ask Salesa if he wants to surrender to her?"

"Tim, easy." But Sasha is frowning as she turns towards Jon. "He is right, though. What are we going to do if we find either of them?"

Jon inhales quickly.

"Well," he says. "If we find Salesa, of course we're not going to hand him over to her. First of all, we probably won’t be even able to. But he could give us something we can use against Angela."

"He doesn't seem like the most co-operative guy in the world," Tim mumbles, still unhappy. But he is listening, much to Jon's relief.

"If we find him, we have to try to get something out of him," he says. "But what we need to do most of all is to find Angela first."

"And then what?" Sasha asks.

"Then we can figure out how to get Martin away from her," Jon says. "Look, the fact Martin got caught when he went to see her directly implies that she operates from home. Maybe she's holding him there. Maybe all we need to do is to lure her out, go in, and fetch Martin."

"Or then there's nothing there and you'll just get arrested for burglary," Tim comments, voice grim.

"Then we can tell the police about her." Jon huffs, frustrated. "Look, what I want is to free Martin with minimal damage to all of us. I don't think that will be possible if we get the police involved right now. Do you?"

Tim hesitates for a moment, obviously contemplating about arguing more, but in the end he deflates, shoulders sagging.

"I'm worried," he says in a quiet voice. "This could end really badly for him."

"We know." Sasha rests her hand on Tim's back, stroking it while she looks over to Jon. "I can't say I want to risk running into our Angela, but I suppose you can give me two names from your list. We'll get them sorted out faster that way."

Jon doesn't like that idea, but it's all too true that they're on a limited time. One of the four Angelas has to be theirs; once they have located her, they can think about how they can free Martin from her. "And you, you will keep looking for Salesa?" he asks Tim.

"Yes." Tim hasn't quite shrugged off his unhappiness, but he looks determined, which Jon takes as a good sign. "I'll look into the archives a little more, then but then I'll have to be in touch with my police contacts. I won't call them over, I'll just have them ask around."

"All right." It's fair enough. "Let's get started, then."

*

What Sasha and Jon end up doing first is going to the phone booth together. The one clue they have about Angela's identity is her voice; given that they have phone numbers of all Angelas, they decide an easy way to try to rule out the wrong Angelas is to simply call them. Jon stands by Sasha's side while Sasha makes the calls - Angela hasn't heard her, after all - and they listen to the voices of the Angelas together.

"Hello?"

"Jones residence."

"Angela."

"I'm not available right now, please leave a message."

None of the Angelas sound exactly like the one they're looking for, but one has the right accent. After they leave the booth, they go to the nearest cafe together to consider their next move.

"It could be Angela Norton," Jon says. "She sounds different, but obviously our Angela knows how to manipulate the human body. Maybe she changed her voice for the call and the tape."

"Or maybe she did that, and also used a different accent," Sasha points out, stirring her latte with a spoon. "It could still be any one of them."

"So we need to go each of them up close." Jon looks down at the list of Angelas on the table, tapping the name of the Angela with the right accent. "I'm investigating this one, and that one. You'll take the other two."

"Sure." Sasha takes her phone out, snapping a photo of the list. "By getting up close, I hope you don't mean walking up straight to their faces and having a chat with them."

"Of course not," Jon scoffs. "I'm not Mar-"

He pauses when his phone rings.

"It's Tim." Jon and Sasha share a look as Jon picks up his phone, pressing it to his ear. "What do you have?"

"Something," Tim sounds hopeful, which in turn makes Jon hopeful. "I found another statement about Salesa. This one mentioned an associate, and I think I might know who that is."

Jon straightens up in his chair. "Find them, in that case."

"I will, although there is one big but." Tim sighs. "He's a member of your favorite family."

"My favorite-?" Jon frowns. "Oh, a Lukas."

"Yeah," Tim says, equally grim. "The statement talked about a captain named Larell or Lukas, and since you had me investigate the Lukas family tree after that Herne case, I know one of them is a sea captain. It could be the same man."

"It seems like a long shot, but-" Jon glances down at the list of Angelas. "You could try to talk to him at least. Nobody from that family has been very co-operative so far, but if this gets us in contact with Salesa we can't not try."

"Agreed," Tim says. "I'll let you know how it goes."

Tim hangs up, and Jon focuses on Sasha again.

"Tim might have a lead on Salesa," he says to her. "But I think we have a better chance of finding Angela first."

"I agree." Sasha takes a sip of her latte, eyeing Jon. "If we do, how should we proceed?"

That's the part Jon hasn't wanted to think about, but of course it's unavoidable.

"I don't think we have time to spy on her schedule," he says. "We need to get her out of her house, and one of us has to go in and see where Martin is." He takes in a quick breath. "I think that person should be me."

Sasha frowns, putting her latte down.

"You could get cursed," she says in a quiet voice. "The house could be full of traps. She may have associates here." She hesitates, looking down at her mug before adding: "I think Tim is right. Once we have a theory about who our Angela could be, we should call the police."

Jon's stomach sinks. "She could harm Martin while we're waiting for them to come."

"She could harm him anyway. She has harmed him already." Sasha shudders, and Jon can't help but think of the nails too. Sasha adds somberly: "We aren't action heroes, Jon. We need to accept that."

He knows Sasha is right. Jon sighs, hanging his head.

"All right," he says. "We'll try figure out who she is, then we'll call the police and hope for the best. I hope we won't be too late."

Sasha just nods.

*

Jon is not planning to call the police. He hopes one of his Angelas will be the one he's looking for, because he is going to break into both of their houses and look for Martin there. He is on the stakeout near the house of the first Angela now, watching from the distance as she works in her yard. He doesn’t think this Angela is it, but he’s going to rule her out properly.

Before he has a chance to plan his next course of action, Tim gives him a call.

"Do you have a notepad with you?" Tim asks him. "I got into touch with that guy, Peter Lukas. But he said he will only agree to talk to you."

Jon looks over to Angela Brown's house. She appears to be busy right now, cleaning out a shed, meaning she's not going anywhere in a while; as much as Jon would like to focus on her, maybe it's best to deal with the Salesa lead right now.

"Fine," he says. "Give me his number."

Soon, Jon is calling Peter Lukas. He hopes this will lead them to Salesa; he doesn't think Salesa will be willing to see them, but he's hoping that the man will, at least, have information that they could use. Angela must be looking for him for a reason; he must, in turn, know something about her.

"Captain Lukas," a man's voice says on the phone, snapping Jon out of his thoughts.

"Hello?" He clears his throat, embarrassed to have been caught off-guard, then says: "This is Jonathan Sims, the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. I have some questions for you."

"Yes, that's what your assistant told me," Peter Lukas says. He sounds amused, for some reason; not a good sign. "He told me that you want to find a friend of mine, Mikaele Salesa."

"I do," Jon says, unable to help his hastiness. "You see-"

"The thing is, Mikaele is a private man." Jon can hear something creaking softly in the background, leather maybe. Perhaps Lukas is getting comfortable in a chair, wherever he is. "Why is that you want to speak to him? Your assistant - a charming man, by the way - said that you want to check up with him about the history of something he has delivered to your Institute, but I find it hard to believe that these sort of inquiries would come from anyone other than Elias himself."

"We are doing this with Elias's permission," Jon interrupts. It's partially true; Elias may not support Jon's search for Martin, but he also hasn't stopped him from using the Institute's resources for it. "All we need to do is to talk to Mr. Salesa, and he has proved to be a hard man to find, So we-"

"-you thought you might as well bother me," Lukas finishes. "Well, I thought I could tell you personally that I have no interest in violating Mikaele's privacy. And really, you should brush up your lies a bit more. I expect more from Elias's archivists."

Jon can't help a slight gasp of offense. "Wait just a-"

Peter Lukas hangs up.

Well, so much for that. Jon huffs to himself, dialing Tim's number. As he lifts his phone up to his ear, he looks over to Angela Brown's house.

Jon freezes when he sees that she has come out of the shed on her yard, and is looking right back into his direction. She's waving at him.

All he can do is take a step backwards, surprised, only to bump into something very big. He doesn't get a chance to run when a bag is put over his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds Martin, and things get messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excessive amounts of blood and attempted murder in this chapter.

As far as kidnappings go, it's straightforward business. Once a hood has been drawn over Jon's head, he's marched over to a car - he knows it's a car because he's bent over it as his arms are pulled behind his back - and quickly tied up, and shoved unceremoniously into a trunk. He doesn't know if Angela has been expecting him or if she has associates on the lookout near her house just for the hell of it, but it doesn't really matter. It's over.

Still, once the hood of the trunk is slammed shut, Jon tries to kick it open from the inside, making as much noise as possible. It doesn't stop the car from lurching into movement, driving a short distance until it halts again, probably to the front of Angela's house. He pauses to listen, hearing as the car door opens and shuts, and feeling it as the car starts to move again. Jon is amazed that all of this is happening in broad daylight, and that nobody is reacting. Perhaps Angela is a known figure in her neighborhood, and feared.

That makes Jon cease with his struggles, reasoning that it's best to save his strength. He wonders if Martin just entered the car with Angela, or if he's waiting at wherever they're driving to right now; either way, Jon will see him soon. Hopefully, he will also soon get some answers; if he is to die today, he at least wants to know why Angela wanted to find Salesa.

He just has to hope that this time, she'll be ready to talk.

*

The ride is long and uncomfortable, but after what feels like an eternity, it ends. Jon puts up a struggle when the hood is opened, but he might as well have done nothing at all; he is simply dragged out of the trunk and forced up on his feet on what feels like a floor, and his hood is yanked off.

"Hello, Archivist," Angela says, smiling to him and looking disturbingly normal for someone who is anything but. She is holding Jon's bag, which was taken from him when he was caught. "Did you enjoy looking at my house?"

"Hardly," Jon snaps, after which he freezes. "Martin!"

Martin is standing beside Angela, his hands bound behind his back and flanked by a large, bored-looking man standing behind him. Martin looks unharmed, much to Jon's relief, just worn and tired, and very concerned as he looks at Jon.

"Oh, Jon," Martin says, shaking his head. "You didn't need to come!"

"No, I certainly didn't, but here I am!" Jon tears his eyes away from Martin and focuses on Angela again, narrowing his eyes. He makes a half-hearted attempt to break free from whoever is holding him - another huge block of a man, surely - but he knows now that he's not getting away. "What are you going to do to us?"

Angela sighs. "That is a good question. I was hoping that we could have solved this without dramatics, but you have sort of made that impossible now." She takes a look around their surroundings, which makes Jon glance around too; they are in an old brick house, probably a deserted one and well away from nearest civilization. Perfect for murdering two inconvenient prisoners.

"Take them down to the basement," Angela says, glancing back at the man holding Martin. She smiles to Martin, reaching out to give him a pinch on his cheek; Martin bears it with an awkward smile. "I need to make a phone call to see if things still can be salvaged. If not-"

Angela shrugs, stepping away from them as she digs into Jon's bag.

"Wait!" Jon is being pulled in another direction, but he digs his heels in, doing his best to stay still. "I know where Salesa is!"

Everything halts.

"Do you now?" Angela turns towards him, her hand still inside Jon's bag. She pulls it out, Jon's phone in her grasp. "Where, then? Also, what is your pin code?"

Jon takes in a quick breath.

"First, I'm not giving it to you," he says. "Also, I don't have his exact location yet, but I know someone who does. Peter Lukas, they worked together. Peter is tracking him down as we speak, and soon we'll know." Jon is shaky and sick with fear, but he fights to keep it all down, locking his eyes together with Angela's. "There is no need for any of this. Please, let Martin go."

"Jon!"

"You can hold me hostage instead. You will have more leverage over the Institute that way." He is probably being cruel to Martin now, but he hopes Martin will get over it once he gets out of here. "We can sort this out. We just need a little more time."

Angela looks at him in silence, her expression a mixture of contemplation and something else. It takes a moment for Jon to realize that it's pity.

"That is really sweet of you, Archivist, looking after your friend like that." She smiles to him, almost kindly. She drops Jon's phone back into the bag. "But I'm afraid I don't believe you."

Martin stiffens, going pale.

"He's lying!" Jon can tell Martin is resisting the urge to look at him, but to his credit, he manages to do it. "He's not my friend, you should hear the tone in his voice when he talks to me! He's trying to-!"

"That really doesn't matter," Angela interrupting, turning away from them and approaching the car. "Take them to the basement now, please. I will join you shortly."

"This is not necessary!" Jon shouts. "You don't have to do this!"

But this time, he can't hold his footing, and he finds himself dragged off.

*

The basement is mostly empty when they get down there, which is one relief: no torture devices, at least. There are steel support columns, however, and both Jon and Martin get dragged over to one. The man holding Jon doesn't have much trouble cuffing him onto the column, much to Jon's embarrassment, but Martin is big enough to give some trouble to the man holding him, and a few times it looks like he might even struggle free. He doesn't, however, and soon his arms are around the column as well while the man with him kneels down to bind his legs with rope.

"You really shouldn't have come here," Martin calls out to Jon after he gives up, glaring over to him. "I was doing just fine!"

"If you were doing fine, none of this would have happened in the first place!" Jon snaps in return, squirming as rope tightens around his ankles. "Martin, what were you even thinking, going to her like that?"

"I was thinking about doing my job! Because that's what I was supposed to do!" Martin yanks at his cuffs, frowning when they refuse to give away. "Besides, you sent me there! When do you ever think anything we deal with is actually real?"

"A little caution couldn't have hurt anyway!" But an ashamed flush is creeping on Jon's cheeks; he is well aware who is really at fault with all of this. "You didn't have to go that far," he mutters, weakly.

"Well, I did, and here we are now." Martin's shoulders fall slack, and he glances down at the man at his feet. "I think it's tight enough."

The man ignores him, but he gets up, which makes Jon realize that he has already been left alone by his captor. He starts to wriggle against the column, but there is rope looped around his ankles and knees both, and his hands are bound around the column with handcuffs. He isn't going anywhere anytime soon, and he has to wonder just how Angela is planning to kill them.

He hopes she will answer his questions, first.

"Look, Jon," Martin calls out. "I'm-"

He falls silent when they both hear Angela coming down the stairs. 

"Well, that didn't go as I hoped," she declares as she steps down into the basement, her face bemused. "See, Archivist, I got in touch with your employer about whether he wants you back or not. He didn't seem to be interested."

Jon's stomach sinks. He knows it can't be true; Elias is a decent man, and is probably calling the police right now. But the idea still stings.

"So, I'm afraid it's time to dispose you," Angela says, lifting something to Jon's line of sight; his eyes widen when he realizes it's an ice box, of all things. "I don't like to use guns, so-"

"Wait!" Jon inhales fast, then asks: "What did you want from Salesa?"

Angela blinks, her brows raising a bit. She chuckles, lowering the box.

"Can't help yourself, can you? That's how you people work, I suppose." She smiles to Jon, cocking her head to the side. "Would knowing why help you die at peace, Archivist?"

"Jon," Martin whispers.

"I don't think anything helps with that, but I would appreciate it," Jon says. "Please, I would like to know."

"You are so much more polite now, it's interesting." Angela sighs. "Very well. I'm sure you remember Lee Rentoul?"

Jon can't help a slight eye roll. "Yes, he is more or less the reason why we're here."

"Perhaps you also remember that he got involved with me because he wanted to get rid of his one-time friend." Angela shifts the box in her arms, steadying it against her body. "Well, I was curious about why he went out to meet Salesa that night. Did Salesa have something that could have helped him, an item or knowledge? I already knew he was involved with all things supernatural, but I thought that was limited to simply trading things, not helping people. I wanted to know what he knew, and if he was willing to share his knowledge."

Angela sighs. "Unfortunately, he proved to be a very hard man to find. For years I only had the vaguest clues about where he was, and eventually I didn't even have that. I don't have the resources that your Institute has, so when your Martin came by to snoop, I couldn't miss an opportunity to find out more. It was a risk, but I think it was worth taking, even if it led nowhere." She smiles to Jon again. "I'm sorry it came down to this, Archivist. Martin is a nice boy and I'm sure you are too, but I don't like to leave evidence behind."

She grasps the edge of the box.

"Well, that's not entirely true. I do like to leave a mark."

Angela opens the lid.

Inside the box, there is a heart. A large, misshapen heart, but a heart nevertheless, a human heart; Angela leans down, steadying the box against her knee as she lifts the heart out with one hand, giving it a squeeze.

As Jon stares at it with wide eyes, the heart begins to beat.

"I'm afraid it's going to get a little messy for you two, but beggars can't be choosers, can they?" Angela lowers the heart onto the floor and gets up. As she backs off, the heart continues to beat, and as it beats, blood start to flow out of it, a small puddle soon gathering around it.

Angela looks over to Martin, and for a moment she looks regretful. "It was pleasure to know you, Martin. I'm sorry it had to end like this." She looks at Jon, and the same regret just isn't there. "Goodbye, Archivist."

"Wait!" Jon pulls at his cuffs, watching as the puddle grows larger and larger. "We can still work things out! It doesn't have to end like this!"

"Can't you at least stab us before you go?" Martin shouts.

But Angela and her men are already heading for the stairs, not looking behind as they close the basement door.

Jon and Martin both fall silent as they're left alone. The heart pumps fast, and soon Jon realizes that it's also growing in size, bulging into even more of a distorted lump as it pours blood onto the floor. He writhes against his bindings, trying desperately to loosen the tight ropes and pull his hands out of the cuffs.

"I'm sorry about this, Jon!" Martin calls out, in midst of his own struggle. "I never wanted it to come to this!"

"I never thought it would come to this," Jon replies, finally turning away from the heart so he can focus on the cuffs. The blood is already licking at Jon's ankles, rising up towards his calves. "I'm sorry, Martin. I never wanted you to get hurt. I never thought you'd be in real danger."

Martin laughs softly. "I did, but I went for it anyway. I suppose this serves me right."

"No, it doesn't." The surface of the blood keeps rising absurdly fast, already reaching Jon's knees. As he glances behind him, he can see that the heart is still swelling up in size, catching up with the blood; he wonders if it will crush their bodies before they have a chance to drown. "I think both of us deserved a more tasteful death."

"A more taste-" Martin snorts. "I guess you could say that."

"Jon!"

They both freeze, craning their necks back. The basement door opens, revealing Tim and Sasha.

"Sasha!" Jon shouts. "Tim!"

"Christ!" Sasha hesitates just for a second, looking down at the blood that has washed up against her. She backs up a bit on the stairs, taking off her bag and digging into it. When she turns back, leaving the bag on the stairs, she has an utility knife in her hand. "Hang in there!"

"No, stay back!" Jon glares at the rising blood, which is up to his thighs now. "That thing on the floor, you need to destroy it!"

Tim is carrying a shovel, which he now steadies in his hands. He eyes the heart through the blood and paces towards it, lifting the shovel up and preparing to plunge it down. But he hesitates. "Are you sure? What if it makes things worse?"

"I'd rather not drown while we speculate on that!" Jon snaps, clinging his cuffs against the column. "You won't get to us in time! Just do it!"

Sasha seems to agree with Jon, pushing out the blade of the utility knife. She walks up to the heart and ducks down into the blood, stabbing the utility knife into it. Tim doesn't hesitate after that, striking down with the shovel, gritting his teeth as he forces it down into the expanding flesh.

"Keep going!" The blood is up to Jon's waist now, and seems to be getting thicker. He glances over to Martin, who is staring at the blood in silence, his face pale.

"Martin," Jon calls out.

Martin turns to him, blinking dazedly. It takes a few seconds until he really seems to focus on Jon, see him. "Sorry," he says. "It's a bit much."

"I know. I'm sorry." For the first time since they've known each other, Jon wishes he could reach out and touch Martin, give him some comfort. "It will be- well, things may become all right."

Martin snorts at that. "Right."

Staring at Martin, it takes a moment for Jon to realize that the blood isn't rising anymore.

"You- you did it!" He looks over his shoulder at Tim and Sasha, who are both panting heavily, their bodies shaking. But the blood isn't rising anymore, and Jon can see that the heart has turned entirely black underneath the blood. It's not pumping anymore.

"Yeah." Tim prepares to pull the shovel out, but he seems to change his mind, leaving it where it is. "I guess we should release you now."

"Yes, that would be very appreciated." Jon glances down at the blood, which isn't disappearing anywhere. "I suppose that might be a little challenging."

Sasha sighs, leaning against Tim so she can rub her face against his still clean shoulder. She digs into the bloody pocket of her jacket, digging out something that looks like a pin. "I guess we just have to get to work."

*

It takes them a long time to get out of the basement, soaked in blood and exhausted, but Jon has never been happier to breathe in fresh air. Tim's car is parked outside, as is Sasha's.

"I'll take Jon and Martin. I might have some clothes for them at home," Tim says, although he doesn't sound excited about the prospect. "God, I'll never get these stains out. Do you think Elias will buy me a new car? A compensation for all my hard work, you know."

"Elias isn't going to compensate anything," Martin mutters, hugging himself. "He didn't even want to save us."

Tim and Sasha glance at each other.

"Elias phoned us, actually," Sasha says. "Right before we came here, he called us, or rather me, to say that you two were in danger and that he would inform the police. He told us to be careful, too."

"Speaking of that," Jon says, "how did you know where to find us?"

He almost doesn't care about that, not really; he's too busy feeling relieved that Elias did really care. Jon was right to have faith in him.

"Well-" Sasha shifts her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. "At the cafe, you said you would call the police once you'd have a theory about who Angela is. I didn't believe you, so when we separated, I followed you, and asked Tim to check on the other two Angelas."

"Right after I was done with Peter Lukas," Tim adds.

"So when Angela grabbed you, I saw it. I was in my car, so I followed you, and called Tim to let him know where I was going." Sasha sighs. "Let me tell you, it's not easy to tail someone. I ended up losing track of Angela towards the end, and drove around in this area trying to figure out where she could have gone. It wasn't when I saw her driving away from here that I realized where she might have gone, so I headed here, and by that time Tim had caught up with me too."

"We were planning to investigate every house that came our way, but luckily we struck gold with the first one," Tim says, frowning. "It was _really_ lucky."

"You don't have to tell me that." Jon turns to Martin, who has been silent. "How are you feeling?" He glances down. "How are your hands?"

"What? Oh, they're fine." That doesn't stop Martin from hiding them behind his back, even though they all know he doesn't have his nails right now. Martin goes on, not looking at any of them: "As for how I feel- I don't know what to say. You didn't have to do this for me, any of you."

"That's nonsense." Sasha walks up to Martin, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulders. "Of course we came to rescue you. There was no way we would just ditch you like that."

"That's right," Tim says, pacing over to Martin as well. He rests his hand on Martin's shoulder, squeezing it as he smiles to him. "I'm so glad you're alive. I was worried, we all were."

"Yes, we were." Jon hesitates before approaching Martin as well, although he doesn't reach out to touch him. Despite his earlier desire to do so, he knows he isn't as close to Martin as Tim and Sasha are, so it would just be weird. But he looks Martin into his eyes as he says: "And as Sasha said, there was no way we were going to leave you with her. That was never an option."

Martin looks back at him, at Tim and Sasha, and his eyes shine. He smiles, hesitantly at first, then wide. "Thank you. All of you."

Sasha pulls Martin in for a hug, squeezing him tight while Tim strokes his shoulders. Tim glances at Jon, giving him a wry grin. "Come on now, boss."

And Jon finally reaches out.

*

Late at night, Elias is still at the Institute when he gets a phone call.

"Hello, Angela," he says. "Escaped the police, I see?"

"I did, although that's no thanks to you." Angela sounds grumpy, but not hostile, which Elias takes as a good sign. "Was it necessary to call them on me so soon? Not that I haven't eluded them before, but I don't like having to hurry."

"Well," Elias says, "I don't like it when my employees are threatened, so that should make us even."

Angela snorts. "Now, I don't think that is quite true. But, whatever helps you sleep at night." Angela exhales softly, then asks: "Now, will you keep your promise? I rattled your Archivist a little, as we agreed."

"Of course. But I have to warn you, you will be disappointed with what you hear." Elias smiles. "I do thank you, however. You delivered splendidly."

"You're welcome." He can tell that Angela is smiling too. "It will be interesting to see," she says, "what he grows into."

"Oh, you have no idea."


End file.
